


The Bet

by hopelessbookgeek



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Abstinence bet, Dirty Talk, F/M, Femdom, Handcuffs, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Smut, Teasing, facesitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-09-28 00:35:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10059470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelessbookgeek/pseuds/hopelessbookgeek
Summary: "If I stopped giving it up you'd beg me to fuck you within a week." You and Jeremy make a bet as to who can go longer without asking the other for sex. It turns out to be a lot harder than you imagined, but the reward will be so sweet...





	1. The Bet

**Author's Note:**

> Trash! Trash!

The guys were filming Minecraft when you got back into the office. It was a ‘just find a bunch of shit’ type of episode, so there would be a lot of material to cut; a bunch of fun to film, in your opinion, but just terrible to edit. “Ayy, look who’s back,” Michael bellowed.

“Oh, good,” said Jack. “I have to leave, come play as me.”

Well, you could never turn that offer down. You took Jack’s seat and wished him farewell before trying to figure out just what the hell you were supposed to be doing.

“Thought you were watching Always Open,” Geoff said, half a question. “What the fuck are you doing back already?”

“Nice to see you too, Geoffrey. If you all must know, they started talking about kinks, and then Lindsay’s answers revealed a _little_ more than I wanted to know about her relationship with Michael. I high-tailed it out of there before I learned anything else I didn’t want to think about.”

“Now I’m curious,” Ryan said, glancing at you. “What did she say?”

“Oh, she tops Michael like a plastic couple on a wedding cake, dude.”

Michael snorted. “Bitch has no idea what she’s talking about.” You could feel the lie, though. Lindsay hadn’t really been that explicit, more confirmation that they didn’t have a strong Dom-sub dynamic in either dynamic, but it was funny to get under Michael’s skin a bit.

“I can buy it,” Gavin said, before Michael kicked his chair.

“Keep your fuckin’ mouth shut, Gav, like Meg doesn’t own your ass.” Ryan laughed, and Michael rounded on him too. “And like _you’re_ not the most whipped guy in the office.”

“Hey! Why am I getting attacked now? What did I do?”

“He’s right though,” you said. “If you ever once topped your wife I’d be _shocked_. Same with you, Geoff.”

“I’m admitting nothing,” he said. “Kdin, cut all this.”

“Please,” Jeremy begged. “Cut this, kill me.”

“And I’m not whipped,” Ryan grumbled. “Believe me, just because I’m nice to my wife doesn’t mean I don’t have some measure of control.”

Michael whistled. “Damn, Ry, naughty!”

“That’s not what I– hey, someone bother her about what she’s like in bed.”

“Oh, jeez, let’s not,” Jeremy said. When you glanced over at him, he wasn’t blushing, but he was right on the edge there. Ever since you two had gotten together, the office teasing had been _brutal_.

“You know, I bet she tops him,” Gavin said conversationally.

Jeremy made a betrayed sound. “Lazy motherfucker that she is?”

“No, I can see it,” Michael said. “Fuckin’… what’s it called? Like, not dominatrix…”

“Domme,” provided Ryan. “D-O-M-M-E. I can absolutely believe that.”

“Stop picturing my girlfriend with whips,” Jeremy snapped, but it was toothless, and they knew it.

“Not whips,” Gavin said. “Just the control. That, y’know, _smug satisfaction_. I can’t see her listening to a man ever, let alone in bed.”

“I can’t even get her to shut up now, and I control her paychecks,” Geoff complained. “So you might be on to something.”

You laughed to yourself. This garbage fire of a conversation was much funnier from the outside.

“Kdin, cut this,” Jeremy warned again. “Let me tell you something. She gets to be so smug and satisfied in here because she knows that at home, she’s all mine.”

Well, that was enough to turn you on, but you forced yourself to roll your eyes. “Please. Like I’ve never made you beg.”

“Go ahead. Make me beg.” You locked eyes across the room and you saw the fire in Jeremy’s eyes– and the challenge.

“If I stopped giving it up, you’d beg me to fuck you within a week.”

He barked out a laugh, but it wasn’t really joyful. “You’d crack long before I did.”

“I’ll take that action.”

“I’ll throw in a hundred,” Gavin said. “Dunno if you’re just betting for bragging rights, but I’ll bet a hundred bucks that Jeremy cracks first.”

“Nah,” Ryan said. “I’ll get in on this. I get vibes of neediness.”

“ _Hey_ ,” you complained. “I thought I was a domme?”

“Hey, no point in being a domme without a sub. I’m not saying you couldn’t make him beg. I’m just saying I think you’ll crack first.”

Well. You’d see about that.

***

You set the rules before Gavin and Ryan, so they could be witnesses: you could hug and kiss, but no tongue, no touching below the shoulders, and absolutely nothing that could be construed as sex– no oral, no phone sex, no mutual masturbation. You could both jack off, you could tease each other however you’d like, but nothing more. Gav and Ryan would deal with the money, but the winners would go out to lunch. You and Jeremy decided that whoever won got to top the other for one night, no holds barred.

You thought it would be easy.

For the first week, it was. You’d gone that long before, easily, casually; after a few months, your relationship with Jeremy wasn’t like it was in the beginning, where it was rare to go a day without getting your hands all over each other. Now you were comfortable in your relationship, relaxed, and so you had sex less often but better.

By the second week, it was starting to get harder. You woke up every morning to Jeremy spooning you, his morning wood pressed against your ass, and damn, it would be so easy to grind back against him like you used to do on weekends, let him wake up horny and fuck you half-asleep. But then you would lose, and you did not intend on losing.

It didn’t help that the guys in the office were intent on teasing the absolute life out of you. If you bent down to fix your loose cables or pick up something on the floor, Michael would whistle, “damn, Jeremy, hope you can handle seeing your girlfriend showin’ off like that.” If you wore anything even remotely sexy, Gavin would wonder aloud if you were planning on giving it up that night. Geoff would conjecture on where he’s caught other people in the office building (you did not laugh when your desk made the list, and he wouldn’t tell you who he caught there). Ryan, disgusting animal, would lean in while you were working and whisper to you about how easy it would be to give in, how natural, how no one could blame you when Jeremy was sitting right over there looking like that. Jack was a good guy and stayed out of it, although by the end of every day he would complain that “you could cut the tension with a knife”.

But the weekends were the _worst_.

See, your place had a pool, and it was an Austin summer. Of course you would be out there, sunning yourself or swimming or soaking your feet while you read a book. Of course Jeremy would be out there doing the same. And what your place _also_ had was a fence– no one to see you take your bathing suit off, no one to see Jeremy’s hands cup your ass the way they had so many other times.

So on a Saturday afternoon it was perfectly natural for you to chill in a lawn chair in just a bikini and sunglasses, a podcast playing from your speakers. It was what you’d done nearly every Saturday afternoon since May, and yet Jeremy looked surprised to see you when he came out to swim.

“Hot out here,” he called, as if you didn’t know.

“Sure is. You goin’ for a swim?”

“Thought I might, if Your Majesty approves.” You smiled but said nothing as he jumped in. With your sunglasses on he couldn’t track your gaze, and so it was firmly on his ass, or else his biceps. Jeremy, glistening wet from sweat or water, was the kind of sight anyone would be unable to look away from.

He swam up to your side of the pool and folded his arms over the edge. “You look good,” he commented, eyes sweeping over your body. “Real good. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you naked, hasn’t it?”

“A few weeks, yeah. Are you starting to miss it?”

“Oh, believe me, I _started_ missing it the day we agreed to that stupid bet.”

You perked up. “Are you caving?”

“Well, no, because now my pride is at stake. I’m _going_ to win. But I also know that if we hadn’t made that bet, I could get you to jump in with me, pull your bikini off, and fuck you until you screamed.” He said it all casually, but his eyes were wide and dark.

“Well, if you wanted my bikini off, you only had to ask.” His breath caught but he waited in silence, and you smiled to yourself. You took your exaggerated time pulling the strings of your bathing suit top, and when it was off, you picked up your bottle of sunscreen and rubbed the lotion on your breasts. You could feel Jeremy watching you, almost panting, and you didn’t _really_ need to keep touching yourself but it felt good to be touched, and knowing it was turning Jeremy on only made it better. You arched your back and sighed audibly, tweaked your nipples once, and then sat back against the chair.

“Oh, you fucking _tease_ ,” he murmured. “When I win, I’m gonna tie your hands to my headboard. I’m gonna get you so wet you’re _dripping_ and then I’m gonna sit back and let you beg me to finally fuck you.”

Oh, God, what you wouldn’t give… “We’ll see,” you said simply.

***

You figured you had the upper hand. After all, Jeremy had admitted that he wished he’d never taken the bet and that he was having recurring and consuming thoughts about fucking you. You _also_ knew that he was the one who pursued you, the one who initiated sex first, the one with the stronger sex drive. You just had to keep doing what you were doing, right? He’d cave soon.

You didn’t count on him fighting back.

It started subtle. He would lounge around the house shirtless, especially after a shower. He would come home from the gym in a black wife-beater and sweatpants that rode low on his hips. He would reach around you to grab things, pressing his cock against your ass. He would spend what felt like _hours_ a day texting you about all the things he was gonna do to you once the bet was over.

But you stood strong. Even though it got bad enough that maybe once a day you’d sneak into the bathroom and rub your clit until your legs shook, at work or at home, you went another week, two weeks, three weeks. It had been more than a month since the bet started and everyone thought it would be over soon. It had to be over soon, right?

One night, about six weeks after the bet began, you sat on the edge of the bathtub painting your toenails. It was a _treat yourself_ kind of evening, and you needed the stress relief now more than ever. You and Jeremy had taken to sleeping apart, you in bed and him on the couch; it was too hard otherwise.

He came in without knocking. “Hey, shoo,” you said. “I’m having _me time_.”

He gave no sign that he’d heard you at all and leaned back against the counter, closing his eyes and hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers. You swallowed, polish forgotten, and watched as Jeremy slid his boxers down his hips to mid-thigh and took his cock in hand, stroking it carefully to full hardness.

Surprisingly, with all the teasing, you hadn’t really seen Jeremy naked in the past month; he’d been body shy at the best of times and didn’t really like to just hang around naked. You certainly hadn’t caught him masturbating, though he assured you frequently that he did, often, thinking of you. “Jeremy, are you sure…” You didn’t even know how you were going to finish that sentence and he didn’t react to your voice anyway.

“Oh, God,” he breathed, tipping his head back as his thumb found the sensitive spot just under the head, his hips rolling forward. “God…”

You watched breathlessly, like a voyeur.

His hand was strong and sure, a firm grip that made him sigh and pant and moan. His cock was flushed and leaking and looked to be so hard it ached. It would be so easy to lean in and take it into your mouth, to sink your fingertips into Jeremy’s soft hips and taste his pre-come– your lips parted just slightly at the thought. But then you would lose, and you had to win. You were sure you had to… had to…

He was clearly in his rhythm now, hips snapping forward into the tight circle of his fingers, his fist shining with pre-come and his forehead beaded with sweat, and every breath he let out was a sharp gasp. You didn’t know how much of it was an act for your benefit, or if this was really how he looked when he managed on his own, but… heat coiled in your belly as surely as if _you_ were the one on the brink of orgasm, and you wanted him.

When he came, you both cried out together.

He took only a moment to catch his breath, and then he washed his hand, tucked his cock back into his boxers, and left, all without even looking at you.

***

“Two months to the day,” you announced, setting your coffee on your desk and dropping into your chair. “Two goddamn months.”

No one had to ask what you were referring to. Your sex life was the most common topic of office gossip. “And how’s that going for you?” Ryan asked. He’d been sure you would lose quickly, and every passing Monday where you showed up with a scowl he’d seemed a little less confident.

“You know, Ry, not fucking great.”

“No? Getting frustrated?”

“Yes,” you said shortly. You used to make jokes about it. It didn’t seem very funny anymore, and Jeremy seemed to be the same way, staying mostly silent and giving off annoyed vibes off-camera. “I’m about ready to break up with Jeremy just so I can fuck someone else without losing this motherfucking bet. I’d suck the dick of anyone in this building without a second thought right now.”

“You’d fuck someone in the office?” Ryan asked, eyebrows jumping up in surprise.

“I’d fuck _you_ if you asked me.” He flushed and turned away.

“No one’s fucking Ryan,” Geoff announced, hands splayed like he was trying to hold you off.

“You should be happy, Geoff,” Jeremy said. “I thought you wanted fewer people having sex in the office.”

“Yeah, I didn’t know it would make you such a cranky bitch, though.”

“It’s your own fault,” Michael added. “ _You_ made the bet.”

Strictly speaking _you_ were the one who made the bet, but it had never been your prerogative to step in between your boyfriend and a good roast session, so you sipped your coffee and booted up your computer.

“Yeah, I didn’t think it would take _two months!_ I’ve had blue balls for eight weeks!”

Gavin smiled, slow and sly. “You can give up, you know. You can end this whenever you want. I’m sure she’d thank you.”

Jeremy looked you dead in the eye. “You want it to be over?”

“Well, yeah, I’ve wanted it to be over for, like, seven and a half weeks.”

“Let’s go.” He stalked over and grabbed you by the arm, hauling you out of your chair in such a demanding way that a shiver went through you. “C’mere, you.”

“You know you’ll lose,” you said, just to be sure that you wanting it to end didn’t mean you were giving in. The guys all watched to see what Jeremy would do.

“Put it in the books,” he said, fire in his eyes. “Signed, sealed, notarized. I lost the bet!” He led you out of the room and into the bathroom down the hall. Trevor was washing his hands, but Jeremy barked “leave” and he fled with a knowing smile. Jeremy locked the door and finally, _finally_ after two months he grabbed you and kissed you deep and fierce, his tongue in your mouth and his hands on your ass.

“I can’t wait, I really can’t wait,” he said when you had to catch your breath. “Take your pants off. I’ll fuck you better later, but if I have to go _ten more minutes_ without getting my dick wet I swear the god…”

You shucked off your jeans and panties, dropped them where they fell. “You’re so disgusting, Jeremy.”

“Okay. I’ll go back to the office and let you do whatever in here, then.”

“Now that’s not what I said…” His belt clinked when it hit the floor and for some reason that got you as turned on as anything else.

He lifted you up bodily to sit on the counter and pushed your legs open. “Two months,” he groaned, cock in hand, teasing your clit with the head. You shuddered, sighed, pushed your hips forward. “No bet is worth two months without _this_.” He pushed inside you and you bit your hand to keep from screaming.

His pace was brutally efficient, his thumb working your clit as he sunk his teeth anywhere he could, leaving red marks you knew you couldn’t hide. It wasn’t going to be a long fuck, and you’d seen him go for hours… Neither of you could wait, and it was just a few minutes before you clenched around him and came, and with a few more thrusts he spilled inside you.

He didn’t pull out right away. He leaned forward and rested his forehead to yours, hand cupping the back of your neck. “I can’t wait to get home and do that again,” he breathed, and you had to agree. “You’re gonna look so beautiful under me.”

“Oh, no,” you reminded him with a faint smile. “Remember the conditions of the bet? Gavin gets a hundred bucks and takes me out to lunch, and…”

“You get to top me,” he recalled with a deep sigh. “Well, babe, my ass is yours. What do you plan on doing with it?”

You just smiled wider. “Wait and see.”


	2. The Payback

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh sorry this took so long! Hope you enjoy!

You spent the rest of the day getting mercilessly teased by everyone else in the office, but it was worth it. Knowing you had Jeremy so hot and bothered… Well, Michael and Geoff could say whatever they wanted. It was worth it. Jeremy was yours again, and it was all worth it.

But the day did end, and you and Jeremy went back to your place together. “God, I can’t wait,” he said in the car. “I don’t even care what we do, I just want to do it.”

“Well, trust me, you’re gonna get it good. Believe me.” After all, you won the bet. You earned it. And to get Jeremy, dominant, strong Jeremy, to submit… Very nice. It wasn’t like you hadn’t done it before, but only in small doses– pinning his wrists, clapping a hand over his mouth, edging him for a little while before finally letting him come. You’d never taken all night to take him apart just so you can put him back together.

The second you got home you barked the orders. “Strip, then lie flat on the bed, hands under your head. Don’t move, and don’t touch yourself.”

He shed clothes on the way to the bedroom and almost stumbled trying to kick off his socks. You admired the sight, fabric dropped like breadcrumbs, and headed to the kitchen to grab a glass of water while he oriented himself. You took a few minutes, checked Instagram, slipped your shoes off, nibbled on a few crackers. After you thought he’d be desperate, you set a swagger into your walk and entered the bedroom.

He obeyed, but only a little. He was indeed completely naked, his cock hard and flat against his tight stomach, his chest heaving as he panted. But his fist was closed tight around his erection and he was stroking, his thumb passing over the head on every upstroke, pre-come beading at the tip and slipping down his length as his hips rolled. You clicked your tongue and he caught your eye with a little smile.

“Now, that’s not what I said. You’re being bad.”

“Maybe. It’s been a long time since I got to fuck you. I’m reliving the memory.”

You dug through your dresser and came up with handcuffs. “You’re hard again even from fucking me earlier?”

“What do you mean, _again?_ I’ve _been_ hard all day. I’ve been hard for two months.”

“And you’re gonna stay hard for a while longer, since you can’t keep your hands off yourself.” You sat beside him on the bed, grabbed both his wrists, and jerked them back to the headboard. He gasped and briefly closed his eyes, and you took his momentary distraction to clip the handcuffs around the slats of the headboard. When he was cuffed tight, you sat back and smiled.

“You make such a pretty picture, Jeremy.” It was probably a good thing you’d left your phone on the kitchen counter, or you’d be tempted to start taking pictures. Jeremy, sweet body-shy who’d taken months to even work up the courage to send a dick pic, would probably not enjoy you keeping physical record of tonight. But oh, the temptation was there, from the way he was biting his lip to the way sweat had already started beading in the hard lines of his chest to the slight curl of his toes. You ran your fingertips over the soft skin of his inner thigh and he parted his legs unthinkingly.

“You gonna fuck me up?” he asked, looking a little delighted by the possibility. “What– blindfold, gag? Cock ring? You gonna fuck me yourself? We have the toys for it…”

“Oh, no, I know we do. I’m actually thinking this isn’t going to be kinky, and here’s why.” You lean forward so that your blouse gapes open. He stares. You let him. “I could blindfold you, but for what? I want you looking at me and knowing you can’t touch me. I want your mouth free so you can tell me exactly how much you want me to let you come. And besides, I want your mouth for other reasons, too.” His breath hitches. “I could fuck you, but I’ll probably just fuck myself on you instead. And as for a cock ring, well, you won’t be coming unless I make you. And if you _did_ come without permission, I’d just have to make you come again and again and again until you’re so strung out you’ll beg me to let you _stop_ coming. So, y’know. Pick your poison.”

He _whined_ , and you had to catch your own breath. “Just… c’mon, babe. It’s been so long.”

“I know. But here’s the thing: this is _my_ victory lap. I can do whatever I want. If I want to lie down next to you and fuck myself with my fingers while you can only watch, I can. If I want to make myself come so loud the neighbors will complain, I can do that. And if I want to leave you here desperate and tied up and just go to bed, I can do that too. This isn’t about the sex, really. This is about you knowing that I’m in charge and I can do _whatever_ I want to do.”

He whimpered and bit his lip, and you had to shift your legs. That was only a half-truth, really. You _were_ interested in the power play, but fuck, it was absolutely about the sex. You just didn’t want him getting too cocky. You pulled your clothes off, very conscious of his eyes on you. You could have made a show of it, but you didn’t bother. He’d have plenty of time to look at you.

“You like?” you said, doing a slow twirl so he could take it all in.

“Oh, you know I do, babe. Turn around again, lemme see your ass.”

You didn’t comply. “What do you think? Want to touch?”

“Yeah, of course. But I’m not gonna beg.”

With a smirk, you bent over and took his cock in hand, stroking slow and sure. “You already lost, my dear. You gave up in front of the whole office. You dragged me into the bathroom so that you could fuck me at work. You _already_ begged. You _already_ lost. You can’t keep what’s left of your dignity.”

“That’s what… _oh_ , that’s what you think.” He squirmed, his wrists straining at the headboard where he instinctively went to touch you. “Don’t tease… it’s not nice.”

“I am not nice.” You stroked faster, rougher, and he moaned. Jeremy wasn’t usually loud in bed, but after such a dry spell you could probably make him scream. “God, I could make you come like this. It’d be so easy… but I won’t.” You took your hand back and his hips jumped up to follow. He didn’t sob, but curled in on himself a little. “I want to put that mouth to use. I’m gonna sit on your face. Is that okay?” After all, you didn’t want to crush him.

“Yes! Yes, God, fuck, yes.” You’d never asked to do that before, always nervous of hurting him, but his enthusiasm was contagious. You knelt over his face and looked into his wide, dark eyes. His pupils were blown so wide his eyes looked almost black. You lowered yourself slowly, your knees on either side of his face, and the second his mouth was on you he was ravenous, his tongue at your entrance, his lips at your clit, kissing, licking, _devouring_.

“Oh, _fuck_ … Jeremy! Oh, God, don’t stop…” He moaned and the sound reverberated through your core. Jeremy had never quite had the most technical skill in going down on a woman, but his enthusiasm had always more than made up for it, and tonight was no exception. He ate you out like you were his last supper, like he was a drowning man gasping for air, like– like– like a billion other clichés. All you knew was that you were gonna come _fast_ because it had been two months and it felt so good and–

You ground down on his face and he moaned _again_ and that was it, it was too much and you were a– well, whatever the female equivalent of a two-pump chump was, and later Jeremy would tease you for talking such a big game and then coming so fast and you wouldn’t even care. “God, I love your mouth,” you sighed, pulling away from him and dropping down beside him.

“My mouth loves you too.” His mouth and chin were glistening, and he turned to rub them on his bicep. “My cock loves you more.”

“Give me a second, you whore. My whole body is shaking.” You took a few deep breaths and gave his cock another few strokes until he was shaking like you were. “You’re _dripping_. My hand’s all wet.”

“It’s been _two months_. Give a guy a break.”

“No,” you said simply, throwing your leg over him and sinking down on his cock with no preamble.

“ _Whoa!_ Fuck!”

“I know,” you said, and rolled your hips. It taken practice to be able to take Jeremy to the hilt in one smooth motion; you’d always had a touch of a size kink and the toys to go along with it, but that was very different from eight inches of flesh and blood attached to a man who could never quite restrain himself from bucking up when you tried to sink down.

When you paused, you could feel him throb inside you, the muscles in his thick thighs trembling with the effort of not trying to fuck you into the mattress. You bowed over like a willow and sank your teeth into his neck. He groaned, tipped his chin up to give you more space. The hair on his chest brushed your sensitive nipples when you breathed, and that should have felt weird but all it felt was good. You’d never been terribly attracted to men with a lot of body hair until Jeremy, who made it– along with anything else he did, said, or wore– sexy.

You bounced a few times on his cock, then paused. Bounced, paused. “How’s this?”

“Oh, fuck, babe, it feels so good…”

Bounced, paused. “You want me to make you come like this?”

He bit his lip with the effort of not begging, but when you tightened your inner walls he rolled his eyes back. “ _Yes!_ Yes, please, please make me come… I wanna come inside you…”

“Good boy. You beg so pretty.” You were getting ready to come again anyway. You rolled your hips slow and steady and rubbed your clit until you came again with a loud groan that made Jeremy whimper. “Fuck. Now I’ve come twice… I might just get up and relax.”

“ _No!_ Please, please…” You smirked, took a breath, kept fucking him. It felt _so_ good to fuck again after months, _so_ good to have Jeremy begging you. “I’m gonna– I’m gonna come…”

“Come for me, Jeremy, c’mon…”

“I’m gonna–” His hips jerked up and he threw his head back. “Fuck! I love you!”

That shocked you into stillness and silence, but he didn’t seem to care, preoccupied with his orgasm. When he’d emptied himself into you, you rolled off him and unlocked the handcuffs. He immediately brought his hands down to his stomach and rolled the stiffness out of them.

“You love me,” you said, and he reddened.

“I didn’t– I didn’t mean…”

“You didn’t mean it?”

He closed his eyes. “I meant it. I didn’t mean to tell you like that. I was gonna wait until… well, later.” He’d never said it to you before.

“Okay.” You curled up at his side and folded your hand over his. “I love you too.”

He huffed out a sigh of relief. “Good. Thank God. I–” He yawned so wide his jaw cracked. “I’m exhausted. But I’m glad. God damn, that was fun.” He kissed you softly; you could still taste yourself on his mouth. You didn’t mind.

“Get some sleep, Jeremy. You’re gonna need it tomorrow.”


End file.
